Naming Day (Jake Underwood Book 1) (27 page)

He considered for a moment and then continued, “But I’ll tell you this, he ain’t getting me killed. I’ll pop the bastard myself if he does anything else stupid.”

“Well, then why go through with it? Help me rescue Dalia and I will see that you are well paid. What do you owe the man who got so much of your team killed? Stop this carriage right now and let me call my father. We can rescue-“

“Can’t do it. It’s not a bad offer, but I can’t. It’s not the money and it ain’t about my honor or anything like that. You just can’t have a reputation for backstabbing your boss. It makes others reluctant to hire you.” With that he lapsed into silence and I sat back to digest what he had said. I had been positive it was his team that had killed Kevin and McNeely, but now I wasn’t sure. It could have been anybody in that Black Watch armor that I had seen in Gilley’s. If it wasn’t Bermuda’s guys and if it wasn’t Callisandra’s crew then who was it? There was only one answer that fit and it was damn scary one. I had a chilly thought and I prayed that I was wrong. I considered mentioning it to Duntar, just to see how he would react to it, but I didn’t want to push him over the edge and have him do something that I would regret.

We made some twisting turns and I heard some cursing from above as the help was flung about the top of the coach.  We stopped abruptly, to the sounds of more cursing, and a kid ran up with a sealed note which he handed through the window to Duntar. He opened it and grumbled beneath his breath and passed it back with instructions to give it back to the driver. He smiled at me and said, “Now we’re cooking! We’ll get you to your lady friend in a jiffy. Hopefully the reunion can be long lived.”

He seemed calm and I couldn’t think of any reason for him not to be. He was stronger than me physically and I didn’t have any weapons. He was well trained and probably forgot more about dirty fighting than I will ever know.

The ride wasn’t terribly long. That probably meant that the place we were at was not too far from the court. The shades were drawn, so I couldn’t see anything that would give me any hints, but the ride had been rough. We were no longer on paved roads, probably at some local estate. Most Fey nobles have a country house or two.

“Here’s how it goes. When the coach stops we get out, me first. If anybody but me comes out and doesn’t give the all clear, they get pincushioned. The lads may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer but even they can point a crossbow and shoot. Once I’m out, you come out, slow like. I told the boss you ought to be tied up, but he ain’t impressed enough with you as he ought to be. Still, you keep it cool and we’ll go in and have a chat and see what he’s got to say. You understand?”

I nodded and he pulled out a dagger that looked like a cross between a bowie knife and an autopsy blade. I also noticed that it was coated with some green shine.

“Now, I would surely hate to use this on you, but I will. The boss may take you lightly, but I don’t. Because of you my whole team is dead and you killed Serlisch personally and even with just one eye that’s a feat.” I started to protest.

“Naw, relax. We all knew the score when we signed up, we just didn’t know it would get messy like this. Nothing personal, like I said, but a nick from this blade is enough to kill a Fey in a few moments and it ain’t a good death, what with the vomiting and all. Half breed like yourself? It might kill or might not, but I don’t think you want to chance it.”

“Not particularly.” I answered.

“All right then, let’s be all friendly like and see what the boss has to say, shall we?” He gestured with the knife motioning for me to stay still as he opened the door. There was a small cloud of dust around us, but not enough to obscure the sight of the ruined villa. Apparently we were headed for an intact out building. Duntar jumped out of the carriage and waved to the guards on the carriage. He then motioned for me to get out.

The light was bright, as it usually was in the Court of Dawn. I could see a few guards positioned near what appeared to be some kind of barn, possibly a storage silo. To be honest, I never really bothered to get any real information on the farmer so I still don’t know for sure where we were. I counted three guys on top of the coach all nervously point cocked crossbows at spots would surely ruin this nice outfit I just got, not to mention making my bad day worse. Scattered around were a couple more local muscle similarly outfitted. Probably the same guys I had spotted earlier.

“You must think I’m a mighty dangerous fellow.” I smiled.

“You are dangerous and Duntar doesn’t take chances unless he has to.” He moved away from me and used the knife to gesture toward the barn.  I saw one of the goons open the door and all I could see was darkness within. Shrugging my shoulders, I went in followed by the cautious Duntar, and the darkness closed behind me as the door was slammed shut.

My eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light and inside I could see that this place had not been used for a while. There was dust gathered in some places and the air was heavy and stale. I saw a female figure which I took to be Dalia. She was tied and had a bag over her head. Pretty pointless I thought, she had to know who nabbed her, probably just another pointless cruelty. I counted about three thugs who had me sighted with crossbows.

Jeryn Callisandra stood there, looking worse for the last few days. His Armani was torn and dirty in a few places and I could see a few cuts and scrapes that marred his cheek. Of course, he had a glamour up to hide all this. He looked cool and collected, but under the glamour he was shaky and seemed hardly able to focus on me. He kept glancing at Dalia and beyond her to another room. Probably more guards. He had a small hand held crossbow in his hands and was waving it about pretty freely. It was no good for penetration, but it would probably mess up a civilian pretty good.

“Mister Underwood. So good of you to come.” He smiled that dagger smile of his and turned to Duntar. “No trouble I hope?”

“Naw. He came along peaceful like.” Duntar carefully slid his poison blade back into the holster and moved to a position where he could watch me, Jeryn and the door.

“That’s excellent. Excellent indeed!” He smiled some more. Damn if I could figure out what he was so happy about. He motioned for me to sit so I found a crate and sat.

“I really wish you’d be careful where you point that thing. From what I can tell when you need someone killed, you hire it done. You don’t look proficient with that thing and I would hate for it to go off accidentally and ruin a perfectly good conversation. Besides, you’ve got three guys on me, probably your three best guys. If they can’t kill me with those crossbows you aren’t going to do it with the little thing”

He grimaced and sighed and I saw the tip of bolt point towards the floor. “You are quite correct. I have never been this deeply involved in any mischief. I wouldn’t be here now if people would just react like they should. I really do blame you for that, Mr. Underwood, I really do. It’s very impolite. Very bad manners.” He giggled.

Uh oh. I glanced at Duntar who looked a little nervous himself. Not too tightly wrapped he had said? This guy was a hop, skip and jump away from gibbering. I forced my panic down and tried to remember Marty and Dalia. He was gone, but maybe she could be preserved.

“You can hardly blame me for all these problems. After all, you were trying to kill me. You did kill Marty after all.” I tried my best client pleasing, placating tone on him. The same one I use when a client has lied to me and everything has turned to crap but I haven’t been fully paid yet.

“That was not me. No. No indeed. That was those fools from the Twilight Order, probably looking for the bitch!” He flung his arm around and pointed the mini-crossbow at Dalia.

“Whoa, there Tex. Let’s just calm down and talk about this. You wanted this meeting, so let’s talk, shall we? ” He grinned and pulled a stool and sat. The crossbow was pointed at the ground again. “Now how do you know that was the Twilight Order on the top of the mound?”

“Silly man, I arranged for them to be chasing the bitch. I had no idea that they would be right on top of us. I thought it would take them a few days to find her and you.” He looked puzzled. “Odd, they never seemed all that efficient to me, but they certainly found us quickly.”

“Twilight Order? You called the Twilight Order down on us, on yourself? Are you crazy? Those fuckers won’t stop coming no matter what you do! How much did you tell them? Do they know who we are?” Duntar stood and crossed the floor to Jeryn in a near instant and looked like he was ready to throttle him despite the fact that Jeryn was taller and a little crazy.

I was pretty close to panic myself. This was bad, bad for me and Dalia and was exactly who I thought had been cleaning up at McNeely’s. Great. The Twilight Order was a slightly more efficient and definitely more ruthless crowd than the Black Watch. I was little fuzzy on how they were organized mainly because most fey hope never to meet them certainly not on the other end of a weapon. The guy was walking dead and didn’t even know it but a glance at Duntar told me he did.

“Let’s all stay calm now.” I said as placating as possible, “Maybe we can work something out. Maybe we could get you asylum with the Court of Dawn.”

Duntar sneered. “Yeah sure, pull the other one while you’re at it, it’s got bells on. We got a despised son with no juice and a fugitive from her own court who knows nothing of value. Why the hell would they make any deal with us other than our choice of funerary rites?” He turned to Jeryn Callisandra again. “You fucker! You’ve killed us all!” His hand was resting on the dagger and he was eyeing Callisandra the way dog eyes a piece of meat. The guards were nervous. They didn’t know exactly who was in charge. Callisandra was paying the bills, but Duntar was very dangerous and they knew it.

“Duntar, really, you must keep a hold of yourself! We have cards yet to play.” He glanced at Dalia and then at me. “We give her to the Twilight Order, sadly dead, killed during capture. So very sad. And then we hand them him as Count Trellisor. Nice and tidy.” He smiled. He actually smiled and I heard Duntar curse beneath his breath and turn away.

“Yeah. That’s a great plan.” I said “It’s damned stupid and hasn’t got a prayer of working, but it’s a great plan if you’re a psycho nutbar. Don’t you think they will deepscan me to point of imbecility? They will know more about me than I do! They’ll find out I’m not this Count Trellsor pretty damn quick!”

“Careful, Mr. Underwood. You needn’t be alive or whole when you are “captured”. I can do things that would make you wish for death.” He was close to edge. A little push would be all it took.

“I could see you being the sort who thinks he knows things like that. Trouble is, I been tortured before, by pros. I don’t think you got the chops, Jerry. ” He was near livid. But he was still. “Let me tell you why it won’t work. First, you’re laboring under the delusion that I have no backup. That just ain’t so. My father and I reconciled last night. Ask Duntar here if he didn’t fetch me out of couch and four with a Lord’s crest.” Callisandra looked at Duntar who nodded. Duntar was looking a little more nervous and began glancing about.

“That was my father’s coach, Lord Stavros Melliscant. He’s a 4
th
circle lord I believe at the moment. He’s got a lot of pull and a helluva long memory. He’ll either find us alive or he’ll make every fey here as dead as iron.” I paused and I saw that I had everyone’s attention, including the guards.

“Duntar, do you remember that sword you lifted off me? “Duntar nodded, a look of horror slowly spreading across his face as he began to realize where I was going. “That was an Honor blade of my house. It has always been recovered, always.” I shrugged. “I figure it won’t take him long to track a blade like that, one tied to his house for generations, one he wore himself. Seems fair, after all you did use a tracking spell to find us didn’t you?”

Duntar was really starting to sweat and he was easing his way towards the closed door. But Callisandra was a little slower on the uptake. He thought for a moment and looked confused. But it finally hit him like a load of concrete. I could see his expression grow grimmer and I could see a visible tick under the glamour, which began to waver.

He made an effort, I’ll give him that. He hesitated and considered shooting but I guess that wasn’t visceral enough for him. He needed to get his hands dirty. He flung the crossbow aside and came at me with his claws. I would describe them as nails, but that really didn’t do them justice. They were more like talons. He was trying to rip my face up and while I would never be a beauty, I certainly didn’t think his version of plastic surgery would make things better. I threw myself backward and rolled. His claws missed my face and tore into my back. My back burned as his claws ripped through the cloak and dug deep into the skin, raking furrows into my flesh. He was so intent on flaying me that he didn’t see Duntar charging him. I’m not sure why he did that. But I certainly appreciated the distraction.

“We need him alive, damn it! We have to have something to trade!” Duntar shouted and put his shoulder right into his hip. He didn’t stop or slow. It was like he was trying to move right through him. Duntar’s charge caught him right at hip level and I thought I heard a crack or maybe a pop and Jeryn Callisandra went down hard. He had to be pretty tough because all he did was grunt and shout. Unfortunately all I heard him say was “Kill them all!” as the Duntar rolled past him.

For a moment, nobody moved, but then things began happening all at once. The gaurds began aiming and to my surprise so did Duntar, but not at me. He was fast, damn fast as a dagger flew from towards a guard. I didn’t have time to look because I was moving myself but I heard a gurgle behind me and the sound of a falling body from above.

I got to my feet and began running as hard and as fast as I could. I hoped that being a moving target would not only attract fire but make it harder for that fire to land. Something pulled at my cloak, a bolt I supposed, but it didn’t hit me. The next one buried itself in my arm, pinning that now useless limb to my chest. It hurt. A lot. My chest was burning and I knew the quarrel head had passed through my arm and into my body. But those two shots bought me enough time. By shooting me, they had lost their best chance of hitting Dalia.

It wasn’t pretty, but it was damned effective. I was staggering as I finally reached her and tried to pull her to her feet. But it was a no go. I needed to get her and myself to cover but they had tied her to a damn chair and she couldn’t move. So I did the only thing I could do to buy her a little time. I collapsed on her, pulled the chair with her.

The chair couldn’t take the combined weight of the two of us and shattered, but she was still tied and couldn’t move. Worse, she couldn’t see and didn’t know who I was and she was struggling to get out from under me.

All I had to time to say before another bolt struck me was “Dalia! Lay still. It’s gonna be okay!” This bolt was in my lower back and the edges of my vision began to go gray and black, but I held on. I didn’t know it at the time, but that bolt had shredded one of my kidneys and lodged in my liver. I just knew I was bleeding bad inside and figured it was a mortal wound. I didn’t want to die here but it would be worth it if I could save Dalia. She was family. I couldn’t lose her too.

The world looked strange. I could see Jeryn Callisandra trying to crawl towards me, his useless leg dragging after him. The world sounded funny. Distant, like when you’re dreaming. But this was a bad one. A saw another guard go down, I’m not really sure why, but I think it was Duntar who killed him.

It was about that time that the door of the barn blew inward and the splinters flew through the air. The passed over those of us who were prone and it looked like they couldn’t get through the Black Watch armor that Duntar wore but they were hell on the last guard. I could hear the sound of combat outside and I knew that my father had come for me. I just hoped I could last till he got here to save her, because Callisandra was getting pretty close and I couldn’t move. I tried, I told my arms to move but the damn things just grasped Dalia closer, the blood from wounds soaking her clothes.

As I looked at Callisandra crawling ever closer I saw a pair of boots. Callisandra looked up, his mouth frothing with rage and I saw a knife slam through the air pinning his arm to the floor. I can’t be sure, because things were blurry, but it looked like to me that he would have to amputate his own hand to get free. He screamed in pain and thrashed around, probably doing more damage to his pinned wrist.

The boots walked closer. Through the mist of my blurred vision I thought I could see Duntar’s face. The dwarf leaned closer.

“Just remember, I could have killed you, I could have killed both of you if I wanted to, but I didn’t.” I heard screams outside the barn and more explosions as Callisandra’s men fought their attackers. I grunted.

“Yeah, You and I know it wasn’t no act of charity, this just wasn’t his day or mine” he said pointing to Callisandra. “Now I gotta go before some mighty pissed off bastards from my old outfit show and decide to retire me permanently. If we meet again-“ he thought about it for a moment as trying to decide what to say. He shrugged “Well, just hope we don’t meet again.” He pulled his helmet on the bastard turned invisible. That Black Watch armor was damn handy. My eyes were already unfocused so I could see a shape moving through the darkness and the door beyond and he was gone.

I’m not sure how long I lay there, bleeding to death. It felt like hours, but it was probably only a few minutes. My sense of time was badly confused. A shadow blocked the doorway and I realized that it had gotten quiet for the most part. I could still hear Callisandra screaming and I could feel Dalia struggling underneath, trying to push my dead weight off her, but she just didn’t enough brute strength or leverage.

I had thought the shape in the door was father but even in my current state, I could see that it was too big for that. Sergeant Angel Bermuda came closed flanked by two big constables who were sweeping the barn with careful cop eyes, which I noticed had started to burn in a few spots.

“Ah, Mr. Underwood! I see you are somewhat worse for wear. You really should have met with me. It would have made things so much easier.” He sighed. “Ah well, nothing for it now I suppose. I really hate to do this, but you are under arrest for a long list of infractions. But we can wait on the charges until after the medics have seen to you and your cousin, who you appear to have bled all over in a rather shameful manner.”